


heavy smoke

by celestialminghao



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dead Xu Ming Hao | The8, Drug Addict Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Drugs, Gen, Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Past Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Yoon Jeonghan, Past Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-04-17 11:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialminghao/pseuds/celestialminghao
Summary: his high that overwhelms the sensesdon’t shoot upsmokers get a jolt from cigarettesthe patch, of course is pretty boringthe epidemic is the two possibilitiessmoking and depression1986patients smokedheavy smokers had a history ofsmokesmokesmokequit smokingas problems increase





	1. Chapter 1

Hands are pulling at Junhui’s arms again and telling him to stand up. He says fuck off, in a voice with a hard rasp. The hands dig into his skin, nails digging in.

Junhui is on his feet and someone tells him they have.

It.

Junhui heard Minghao’s voice somewhere in his head, a short voice, ‘don’t shoot up.’

_Don’t shoot up._

Junhui goes for a cigarette. He slots it in between his lips and tells them he doesn’t want.

It.

But Junhui does. Junhui does want.

It.

He wants to shut his eyes because everything hurts and he doesn’t want to hurt anymore.

It makes his heart pound and it pounds too hard for him to notice anything else. 

Junhui leaves, he breathes out cancer and someone says his name. The Korean name.

Shua. Shua is here, Shua is here for Junhui. “Junhwi, you’ve been gone.”

“Sorry,” answers Junhui. He isn’t really sorry.

Joshua is cute.

They go to Shua’s apartment. He lets Junhui shower, and Shua says he wants to shower after.

When they pass each other in the bathroom, Junhui leans close to Shua, wearing nothing but a towel. “I missed you.”

Shua showers and Junhui smokes another cigarette.

When the water squeaks to a stop, Junhui feels like his stomach went empty. For a second, in his mind, he thought he heard Minghao.

Shua sucked bruises on Junhui’s neck and let the marks pool around his collarbones and down near his hips. His skin felt like a furnace.

After, Shua asks Junhui. “Jun,” he says. “You still doing heroin?”

Junhui shakes his head. “No.” It’s a half lie and a half truth. Because Junhui is two days clean.

“Okay.”

Junhui wears Shua’s clothes, they’re loose on him. Shua tells Junhui he loves him.

They go to a party, Seungkwan offers them drinks when they come in. Shua is holding his hand.

“Been ages since we’ve seen you,” Soonyoung says. Everyone knows. The party is for Junhui.

Junhui nods. Shua holds his hand tighter. Junhui wishes he wouldn’t.

They talk with people, drink their beers slowly. Seokmin presses something into Junhui’s hand. “Cold turkey is impossible,” he says.

Junhui is outside, the pill melting on his tongue. Shua thinks he’s in the bathroom.

The alcohol was numbing everything, the pill made him feel light.

Minghao was finally here, he sits next to Junhui. “You didn’t use,” he whispers, this is in Mandarin.

It’s refreshing to hear.

“I did.”

“Not heroin.”

“LSD.” Junhui looks at Minghao. “You’re so pretty.”

“Stop it.” Minghao looks to the porch doors. “Shua is here.”

“It’s okay,” Junhui says. “It’s okay.”

“I wanted you to stop using sooner.”

“Sorry,” answers Junhui. He means it.

“You remember 1986?”

Junhui looks at Minghao. “Shut up,” he’s speaking Korean now.

Minghao answers the same. “1986.”

“Shut up.”

“You do remember,” Minghao mumbles. “I could have guessed.”

“I’m sorry,” Junhui tells him, crying.

Shua comes out onto the cold porch. “Jun?” He asks. “Who are you talking to?”

Minghao is gone.

“No one.”

Junhui smokes a cigarette and goes insides with Shua.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I resent you,  
> I hate the times I had with you,  
> After I lost you,  
> Everything became meaningless.
> 
> I don’t long for you,  
> I don’t miss you,  
> Your love that you gave to me,  
> I don’t want to remember it.
> 
> Really I loved you.
> 
> _-I Loved You;Day6_

The person laying on Junhui's left is Seungcheol. He fell asleep next to Junhui on the couch. Seungcheol's lips were parted and his arms were folded across his chest. 

He snores lightly, but Junhui can't fall back asleep.

Junhui goes to the bathroom, sitting on the edge of Seungkwan's bathtub. The room is empty, save Junhui.

He wants to find Shua and kiss him, he wants to drag Shua in here and get fucked hard. Something hurts - something _always_ hurts. Always fucking hurting.

Junhui thinks of what Minghao said to him before. 1986.

And before that, 1985, 1984, 1983, 1982.

Minghao's lithe body sheading each of his layers and whispering Junhui to do something - _anything_. 

Grinding hard down on Junhui's lap and panting against his mouth that he needed Junhui. Minghao's lips swollen and red. His voice aching. _"Fuck me, Jun."_

Junhui's hand wrapped around his own cock and making the frustrated noises Minghao loved so much - those desperate noises that made Junhui's voice shake as he would whisper Minghao's name. "Hao. Hao- Fuck."

Junhui cries after he cums. He waits in the bathroom for another half an hour and cries for too long.

When he finally cleans up, tucks up against Shua in the living room. His arms around Shua and his head curled up on Shua's chest.

Shua makes a soft noise before Junhui falls back asleep.

Shua and Junhui leave early hours later, breathing out short goodbyes to the few that were conscious enough to acknowledge their departure. Junhui hears Shua faintly make a promise to Seungkwan and Seokmin that they'll be sure to visit again soon. "This won't be like last time." 

Shua holds Junhui's hand as they walk to Shua's apartment - Home is what Shua calls it.

Junhui's home is Minghao. 

In Shua's apartment, Junhui curls up on the bed and whispers for Shua to join him. 

"I love you," Shua whispers, carefully.

Junhui nods. "I love you, too." It's empty. 

Somewhere along the line of _this_ , Junhui realized how blatant it hurts to hear 'me too' in response to declarations like that. So he always says it back. It's empty, it's hollow, weighed down by falsities and lingered feelings for someone else, but Junhui always says it back.

It makes a gentle ache bloom in Shua's chest, but it feels better than loosing Junhui.

"I missed you. Those- Those weeks you disappeared and... Everything."

"I missed you, too."

And _it hurts_ again, but Shua ignores it. He kisses Junhui. There's the taste of stale beer and cigarettes on his lips, but it's still Junhui. Buried underneath it, Junhui tastes like anxieties and hesitations of betrayal.

His fingers work underneath Junhui's shirt, pulling at the cloth. "Junhwi- Junhwi," he moans into their kiss. "Touch me..."   

Junhui lets Shua take off his shirt. "Shua," he says back. As if the name alone is enough to say it. _I want this_.

"Touch me," Shua echoes. "Junhwi, touch me." He bites on Junhwi's lower lip.

Minghao was always so tiny, he looks nothing like Shua. 

"Shua," Junhui tries. "Shua, stop."

"Please," Shua cries. "Do something. Touch me. Do anything." He does pull back, Shua sits on the far edge of the bed now. "Please, please, Junhwi." 

"I..." Words fail Junhui. 

Shua cries more. "I can _never_ be him, you know that." 

Junhui leaves, telling Shua he needs to clear his head. 

Shua cries again, he calls Jeonghan and cries harder. 

Junhui punches a wall when he gets outside, he beats his fists against the brick wall and curses Minghao.

Shua has beautiful eyes and a kind smile, his voice is gentle like champagne, his hands fit well in Junhui's. Shua is his boyfriend.

Minghao fucked everything up.

Shua had not been his before, that was Minghao. But Minghao was slipping, slipping, slipping out of grasp until he was a twitching body on the ground.

He never said the words to Junhui.

He never said he loved him.

It was always _implied_ \- it was always whispered through touches and kisses. Minghao, always so scared because, “ _Jisoo- Joshua, he likes you_.”

Maybe on some level, Junhui liked Shua then, too.

It's only an hour later when Junhui comes back to Shua's apartment. He's sober. 

His knuckles have dried blood on them and his eyes are red. Shua hugs him tightly. "Junhwi," he breathes. 

"You know what he was to me."

Shua nods and cries. "I'm never going to be that." 

Junhui takes a deep breath. "I love you." It's so empty. 

Shua hugs him tighter. "I love you, too."

It hurts again. 

Junhui smells like cigarettes, and Shua asks if he smoked while he was gone. Junhui tells him he had. 

"Don't smoke anymore."

Junhui agrees, but will not keep that promise. 

Shua had realized shortly after Minghao died that his love for Junhui were primary colors. Reds, blues, and yellows. The basics. It was pure love, it was hopelessness, it was confusion. And somewhere along the line, the other shades worked their way in. Falling in-between how Shua is confused - he's confused and in love. It's hopeless but he loves Junhui. Loves the sweaters he wears, the smell of lilac soap that muddles in with the stench of old cigarettes. How his eyes look when someone takes a flash photograph, big and glossed over. Lips too pink and skin dark, the callouses that brush against Shua's soft skin.

Junhui definitely feels something for Shua, feels something deep inside. Every time it grows, when it gets stronger, the nostalgic pain of Minghao overrides it. No point in someone else. It gets too overwhelming at times, knowing that it will always be so dormant.

Shua, going through the motions of half a happy relationship, and Junhui who is forever stuck in a love triangle with a dead end.

"I love you," Junhui says, hours later, trying to make the spark for Shua glow. 

Shua finds Junhui with tired eyes. "You love Minghao."

Hearing his name dance across Shua's lips like that causes a wave of pain. "I can love you both - I love you." _Empty_.

"I love you, too."

Shua's feels empty, too. 

“I’m sorry I can’t show it. Shua—“ He takes a deep breath. “You know what he was to me.” It echoes from before, the tender wound of the word: _Was_.

And Shua repeats it. “Was, though. Junhwi. _Was_.” Its selfish, its so fucking selfish. “I'm _here_. I’m alive, I’m right here and you’re still hung up on Hao.” His eyes are wet.

Junhui can’t find the right words. There was too much about Shua that cancelled Minghao out - but too much of Minghao to forget.

He could hum songs they both knew from their childhood, speak softly in Mandarin and not have to wait for a him to translate, shoot up with him and fuck when they got too high. Shua was none of that.

Junhui needs to shoot up. He needs to go and find.

It.

”I have to—“

”Go,” Shua finishes for him. Frustration and confusion lacing his words. “You have to go and disappear for another month, until you’re strung out on the streets and somehow end up finding me - Junhwi, I can’t do-“ he stops. “You’re suppose to love me. You’re suppose to love me,” Shua says this twice. 

“Stop saying that!” Junui shouts. “You think I don’t love you — Shua, you’re-“ His heart is beating so fast. Junhui needs.

It.

”-you’re the only reason I’m alive.” 

Shua starts crying. “But everytime you use, its killing you anyways.” _Don’t say it_. “It’s what killed Minghao.”

Junhui pulls Shua harshly against him, his teeth dig into Shua’s lower lip. “Shut up,” he says. “Shut up. Don’t talk about him.” 

The kissing is messy and frantic, desperate for something to come out of it. Answers, evolution, _Minghao_. 

”It takes me saying his name for you to touch me.” Junhui pulls back. “Should that be our safe word now? Minghao?”

Junhui wants to push Shua back now, leave him crying in Shua’s apartment again. This time, find someone to hook him up. Just one hit.

But Shua takes a breath. “Please, Junhwi. Please.”

And Junhui pins him against the mattress, slotted in-between Shua’s legs. They kiss, deeply. _So_ deeply. Its like their first time again. When Junhui was touch-starved and Shua was a fool in love. “Shua.” It sounds forced.

So Shua raises his hips and presses them to Junhui’s. “You can- You can say it. It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. They both know that. 

But Junhui still rocks his hips against Shua’s. “ _Hao_ ,” he hisses. “Minghao. Minghao, I love you.” It’s in Mandarin.

Shua takes a second to translate. “I love you, too.” _Mandarin_. He takes a deep breath. “Fuck me, Jun.”

It’s later. They’re sweaty, bruises line Shua’s throat. 

Shua takes a shower, and cries. 

Junhui hears, so he follows in after him. “Thank you.” _Korean_.

Shua is still, the water rolling off his shoulders and down his cheeks. “Okay.” It’s weak. Softly mixing in with the shower, disappering down the drain. 

Junhui lets himself press against Shua. “Shua.”

”Junhwi, please—“

”I love you.”

Shua shutters. “Please.”

”I love you.” _Mandarin_.

”I love you, too.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I only had you,  
> Every night, I scold myself,  
> It’s my fault that I didn’t know you,  
> Every night, I dream of dancing with you.  
> What should I do when I wake up?  
> What’s the use, I can’t wake up.
> 
> If this is fate, if I accept it,  
> Time would pass,  
> You as you and me as me.
> 
> Nothing but you, you, you.
> 
>  
> 
> _-Nothing;Pentagon_

Shua’s hair reeked with the overpowered smell of conditioner. Junhui was awake next to him.

They were still wet from the shower, naked bodies pressed together. It wasn’t sexual, it was almost pleasant.

Junhui kisses Shua’s shoulder, the dip of his collarbone, actually.

He lets his hands run down Shua’s front carefully, fingers tracing the indentions the awkwardly folded sheet left printed on him.

Almost pleasant - because it just wasn’t quite.

Shua’s face was still streaked with tears, shiny stains on his cheeks. Junhui wanted to lean down and kiss them away.

Shua wouldn’t want him to do that.

His hands wrap tighter around Shua, and he exhales softly.

Shua stirs, and then mumbles Junhui’s name.

Junhui kisses his collarbone for a second time.

The bedroom is lighter when Junhui wakes up again, Shua still laying against his front. Morning light softly paints the crevices of his face. Junhui sees the puffy, red skin around Shua’s eyes.

Shua cries too much, it feels like an everyday occurrence. He was pretty when he cries. The way tears stuck to his lashes and made his eyes glassy.

Of course, Shua was pretty all the time. He was effortlessly gorgeous.

But Minghao - Junhui winces for a second.

Minghao, he had something so beautiful about him. Something swirling as a constant inside of him. He was so weightless, the carefree life that Junhui so desperately wished he could of had, too.

But soon it was a fucked mess of Junhui begging Minghao to just come with him, to leave the mess they created in Seoul and go back to China. Live a life they would never reached without the other.

“ _But Joshua_ —“ Minghao would always argue.

Sometimes it felt like Minghao thought more about Shua than Junhui did.

And Shua wakes up finally, he stirs against Junhui and looks up to him. "Hey," he whispers. 

Junhui still hugs Shua. "You work today?"

"Not until three."

Junhui dips his head down, it hurts. His body hurts - aches all over. It starts in the center of his back and starts to spread throughout. "Can we just stay in bed today? Until you have to go?"

Shua realizes Junhui is trying to make this normal. "Yeah... Are you feeling okay?" Junhui shakes his head. "You're sweaty," Shua points out. 

 _Withdrawal_ \- Junhui noticed last night, when he wasn't sleeping. This wasn't the first time he's gone without.

It.

Once or twice it was to get clean, but usually it was because Junhui was refused.

It. 

For a moment he looks down to Shua and wonders why he loves him - why he would ever love Junhui. Why anyone ever could. How Shua ever find himself in love with Junhui. 

For months that raged on of Junhui using and coming home, screaming at Shua to not touch him, that he only wants Minghao. For months that raged on where Junhui drank coffee at three in the morning and didn't sleep, didn't come to bed at night and instead sat out on the balcony and cried. Shua going to work everyday, not knowing if he'd come back to an empty apartment - an empty home. Junhui was slipping from him, he couldn't lose him - _he couldn't lose him._

Junhui was a November wind that was disappearing from Shua, drifting away until he was nothing. 

Junhui was back now. Junhui was better now. Junhui will be better now. 

"I love you," he says to Shua. _Empty_. 

"I love you, too." 

"I love you so much," Junhui says again. _Empty_. "I love you, Shua." 

Shua nods, turning onto his back. Junhui pushes up, until he's hovering over top of him. "Are you okay?"

"Perfect. I'm perfect - you're perfect, Shua." _Show him you love him._

Shua let's Junhui sink down and kiss him, deeply. _So_ deeply. He lets their bodies move together. "Junhwi," Shua exhales. 

Junhui kisses down Shua's body. Sometimes burns inside of him. 

Shua exhales again. "Junhwi." 

And afterwards, Junhui lets his head rest of Shua's chest. "I love you," he says again. 

He thinks of Minghao. 

They stay like that for a few hours, it's not until Shua starts slipping out of bed that Junhui realizes it's almost three. 

Shua is standing at their closet, not a stich of clothing on his body. He looks peaceful. "You're beautiful," Junhui says suddenly. _Mandarin_. 

And Shua shudders. "You think so?" _Mandarin_. 

Junhui nods, but his Shua can't see him. "Yes, Joshua." _Mandarin_. 

Shua finishes getting dressed, and stops long enough to kiss Junhui. "I love you," he says softly, _Korean_. It's like there's a sob in his voice he's scared to let show. He does cry after he leaves, but Junhui doesn't know that, but he guessed as much. 

Junhui's heart sits in his throat. It's not until the door shuts heavily that Junhui says it back. "I love you." 

It's still empty. 

He's been so sad since he lost Minghao. Someone - Seungkwan, he thinks, but it could have just as easily been Jihoon or Wonwoo - told him that sadness is hollow. That's never been how Junhui saw it though, he always saw sadness as something numb, something filled to the brim. Something weighing you down and holding you in place. Minghao was like an anchor sometimes. 

So maybe it's good that his love for Shua is empty. 

Junhui wakes up hung over the toilet, a rotten taste in his mouth. He's crying. "Shua," he whispers. "Shua..." Shua is at work. 

Shua's gone. 

A few hours, maybe minutes pass, Junhui calls Seokmin. "Do you have more?"

"More?"

"I need- I need to quit for Shua, but..." He takes a deep breath. "'Cold turkey is impossible.'" 

Seokmin stops by for only a bit. "I'm on my way to work," he tells Junhui. "Don't tell anyone I have it." Junhui nods, but he shakes a little. "Dude, I'm serious." 

And when he leaves Junhui takes one. LSD. Better than nothing - but was it really? Maybe. Maybe because he doesn't feel so sick anymore. 

Minghao. Where's Minghao? How much did Junhui take? He thinks it was only one but it could have been more. He wasn't paying attention. How much did Seokmin leave with him? Minghao. Where's Minghao?

God. His heart - in his throat. Heart in his throat. Can't breathe. "Minghao." 

Junhui is crying. His skin feels like it's being ripped off - by Minghao. By Shua. _Rip_ ping Junhui out of his skin and stripping him raw. Shut up you're so loud. Fuck you, _fuck you_. Where is Minghao? 

It's closing in - he can't breath again. "Minghao," he rasps. 

Minghao. Minghao. Minghao.

"Did you fucking use?" _Minghao_. Where is he?

Junhui is against the wall, crying again. Where is Minghao? "No." 

"Fuckin' liar." 

"It hurt. Hao, it hurt." 

Yellow specs over his vision, the room is too dark. Minghao is in the corner of his vision, disappearing every time Junhui got too close. He's screaming now. "Please don't leave me." 

It's too hot in here - it's too hot. Too hot. Too hot. Too hot. Ripping his skin. 

Hands around his throat, holding him to the floor. He can't breathe, dark is closing in. His heart hurts so much. 

"Shua?" Where's Shua. 

Anchor. 

Minghao kicking him, Minghao hitting him, Minghao screaming at him. "You killed me." 

 _I didn't._ Where's his voice. Where's Shua?

"You killed me." 

Shua with his champagne voice, and his eyes that could glow. Shua's hands drifting down Junhui's body and breathing softly against his skin - telling Junhui he loves him. 

The carpet is rough on his skin, and Junhui feels hands digging in his skin. He wants to die - please let it stop. Minghao is gone. No. His voice is still here.

"Junhui." Minghao is lost. Minghao is dead. "Junhui, where are you?" 

 _I'm here._ No, no, no, no. Where's Minghao? He can't breathe. He's crying again. Minghao come back.

Minghao dead on the floor. He was twitching. Minghao saying it, saying it before he couldn't say anything else. _"Junhui, where are you?"_

And he told him. _"I'm right here."_ But Minghao was gone. 

Someone is holding Junhui down. Someone is dragging Junhui away - away from Minghao. "Minghao." 

The path to Minghao covered by thorns - cutting into Junhui. It hurts. Minghao come back. Desire, lust, fucking. _Love_ \- he loves Minghao, please come back.

His colors - all his colors muddling together, Shua's primary colors mixing together into black. Darkness. The colors drench him - stinging in his eyes and pulling him apart. God. Oh God. Where is Junhui? 

"You're okay," someone says. Shua. He's not - Junhui's not. "You're okay," he repeats. 

Shua's gentle touches, his lips that would quirk on the end into a smile when he was tired. Shua. Shua and his hands that would hold Junhui's - he loves Shua. Where is Minghao? 

Minghao screaming. Where is Shua? Why didn't Junhui get help? He let Minghao die. 

A body on the fucking ground that won't move and the echo of it's question - _Junhui, where are you?_ He was right there, next to you, but Minghao didn't see him. Minghao never saw him - Minghao will never see him again. Minghao. 

"I was right here. I was right here. I love you. Minghao." 

Champagne. "He knows."

 _Mandarin_. 

Where the fuck is Shua? Junhui's Shua, shining too brightly that it hurts his eyes. He needs the pain - it's too dark, colors muddle together. "You're going to get lost, Shua. Shua don't loose yourself." 

"I won't." Gentle hands. "You're okay." 

Dark, It's too dark. Where is Shua? Shua's gone, Shua's left him again. Shua is dead. Junhui let Shua die. Shua's dead, he's dead like Minghao. Minghao is dead. Everyone is fucking dead. Everyone but Junhui. 

Junhui wants to die - he's laughing and screaming that. Screaming that he wants to die, he's crying again. Soft, gentle hands hold his own.

Weightless.

Lips press to his temple, and whisper Junhui is okay again. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or else I’ll be more trapped in my trauma.
> 
> My mind,  
> Has become impoverished,  
> Deeper and deeper,  
> I can’t even find myself.
> 
> Where is the end to this trauma?
> 
> I don’t even know, I need a hand to hold.
> 
>  
> 
> _-TRAUMA;Seventeen_

Shua’s fingers are tightly wound around Junhui’s wrist. Junhui looks to him, but realizes they aren’t alone. Junhui only hears the middle - or the end - of what Shua is saying. “-Be able to understand what he’s going through, but I don’t care how hard it is to quit, the point is he’s _trying to_ quit...”

And then there’s Seokmin’s voice. “I know, okay. I shouldn’t of. I fucked up, I get it.” There’s a pause. “What happened to him?”

”Just a bad trip...” Shua explains. “He- He kept asking about Minghao - and me -  he said he loves him, that he loves me, that he wants... To die.” Shua takes a soft breath that Junhui barely hears. “He was... With Minghao when it happened.” 

“It?”

”They were together- Not, not... Together together, but they were with each other... Not like, how he and I are- But, well-“ Shua, fumbling over himself, as if he can find a way to say this. To not make Seokmin think about how Shua started dating the dead boy’s ex.

Seokmin does think of it. He doesn’t say anything. 

“Junhwi saw Minghao die?” Shua doesn’t say anything, so Junhui pictures him nodding. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Junhui doesn’t listen to the rest of the conversation, he falls asleep instead.

Shua still holds his wrist when he wakes up. Seokmin isn’t here anymore - at least he doesn’t think. 

Bad trips. Junhui has some experience with them, they’re never fun. They’re dark, black ink dripping down the walls and blocking out the light. They’re scary. 

“You told Seokie...” Junhui did not want to say that. 

Maybe Shua had known he’d been awake. “I’m sorry.”

”You don’t know anything about him.” Junhui sees red. But he’s tired - tired angry is the worst type. His emotions, his energy, everything starts building up but he can hardly process anything. “You know he’s... Gone. You don’t get what happened.”

”Then tell me.” 

Junhui sits up, he stares at Shua with a heavy look. “I can’t do that.”

Junhui could. It would probably make him feel better, but his heart, the damned thing, is still too invested in Minghao.

Junhui had always thought damned things maybe them heavy. Weight added to the word, carrying more importance. Junhui, with his damned heart that’s too invested in a damned boy.

Shua reaches out to Junhui and he flinches back. “Don’t touch me today.”

Shua lets Junhui alone in their room. Or Shua’s room, or Junhui’s room, or just the bedroom. 

Junhui cries and thinks of Shua, thinks of when Minghao died, and thinks of his empty love for Shua. 

Empty, but vast and waiting to be filled. That was always Junhuis problem, he loved too much, too deeply. Minghao died ten months ago.

It’s easy to let this fall apart, but something always reels Junhui back in. 

That first night when Junhui kissed Shua and just asked so carefully, “Please love me.” And Shua told him he already did.

He loves him. He kissed Junhui like he meant something, he touched him so gently and spoke with his champagne voice. “You’re beautiful.”

Junhui was never called beautiful.

Junhui could love as deep as the ocean, but his anchor is pulling him deep down into an unforgiving darkness. Minghao still pulls him down even now.

So he takes a shower, the water is hot and makes his skin red. Shua always knew Junhui to leave the shower on red hot, and would turn in down in fear Junhui could get hurt.

Junhui turns the nob so it burns worse. Then he tangles his hands in wet hair, crying mixing in. His muscles move hard and hes burning. Burning too brightly

He gasps out in pain, thinking of Minghao and his final moments. Thinking of how scared he was. _Junhui, where are you?_

_I’m right here._

He was _right there._

Junhui lays his head against the cooled shower glass, shuddering at the sudden difference in temperature. Part of him wait for Shua to finally join him in the shower and fix the heat. Another part tells him he deserves it. Pain, both this and Minghao’s.

He’s crying too hard now, a mess all over his face, screaming out each ache in his heart. “Shua,” he says.

”Shua?” He asks, louder.

The water is shut off and a towel on Junhui’s shoulders follows in suite.

They lay on Shua’s and Junhui’s bed after. Junhui still soaked and ruining the sheets. “I’m going to tell you about Minghao.”

”I already know about him.”

”Not eveything.” 

“Alright.”

So Junhui recounts. “I was getting on Hao to go back to China with me.” Shua takes a sharp inhale. “But he- he kept saying nothing would be different. That everything would still be- Nothing would have changed.”

”Okay,” that’s all Shua says. He lets Junhui continue.

”One night we... Used. Minghao was mad about work - I think they let him go.” Junhui knew they had. They found syringes in his bag. “So he... Didn’t stop shooting up. Kept saying he didn’t feel anything, kept doing more. I didn’t- I didn’t stop him.”

Shua reaches towarda Junhui, but retracts when he flinches and realizes that it still applies - _don’t touch me today_. “You don’t have to talk about it, Junhwi.”

Junhui shakes his head and continues. “He started freaking out... Like he couldn’t breathe. Hao drops to the floor and then he started crying.” Junhui counts to ten. “He overdosed. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked.”

“Junhwi...”

”And he started- he started twitching. He started shaking and he sounded so scared, Shua. He shouted. He shouted for me. Screamed, ‘ _Junhui, where are you?_ ’” He takes a deep breath. “He was so fucking scared.”

”Did he die just after?”

Junhui shakes his head. “He twitched for a bit longer, I remember holding his hand. My other was holding him down... ‘Cause I thought he might hurt himself.” Junhui takes a deep breath again. It’s hard to work through. “Then he stopped moving. I thought... He was okay.”

”Oh, Junhwi.”

”Don’t say my name that way...” Junhui breathes. “Gentle, like that. I’m okay.” Shua nods, and lets Junhui continue. “I’m sorry that I still dream of kissing him.”

”It’s okay.”

”No, it’s not. ‘Cause I should only dream of you.”

Junhui’s eyes are shut, so he doesn’t notice Shua sit up just slightly and stare at him. “Maybe.”

”I love you. I know it doesn’t feel like it.”

”It feels like it.”

”No, it doesn’t.” Junhui opens his eyes and looks to Shua’s parted lips. “It feels like there’s no weight to what I say to you. Like when I say it - when I say I love you-“

”It feels so small... Like Minghao will come along and swallow it whole.” Shua says Minghao’s name so carefully. Like he’s waiting to be touched again, like before, just for whispering the name of a dead boy.

”I love you,” Junhui says, crying. He felt like Shua, crying so suddenly for no reason. “I love you.” Still so empty, still no weight.

”It’s okay,” Shua says, because it isn’t, but it is. “It’s okay.”

”I’m sorry I love him, too.”

Shua wants nothing more than to hold Junhui, but he doesn’t. “Okay.”

”You’re kind. And your eyes are pretty,” Junhui weeps. “Your voice is like champagne, and your hands are warm. I... Told myself for a really long time, that you were a replacement.”

It stings. “Okay.”

”But you weren’t, Shua! You’re Shua!” Junhui sits up, facing away. “And I hated that Minghao still... Lives in my heart.” He presses a hand to his chest. “He’s still here, but somehow you worked your way in. And he’s over powering, I know. I know.”

”Okay.” It’s not. Shua sounds so fucking empty.

”Please say something else.” He cries harder, hiccuping gasps coming faster than before. “I know I’m terrible to you.”

“You aren’t, Junhwi, you really aren’t.”

Junhui feels like his chest collapsed in on himself. “I love you.”

Shua feels a million things at once. Pain for Junhui - Pity, maybe. Love, anger, shame. “I love you, too.”

Those few words are all they have left.

Junhui reaches out towards Shua, his hand groping at the space in front of him. Shua fills it with his own hand. 

His lips find the back of Shua’s hand next. “I'm sorry for earlier.”

”I forgive you.”

Junhui cries again. 

“I’m sorry I still love him,” Junhui mumbles against his hand. “And you. I’m sorry I love you, too.” Maybe this is Junhui talking to Minghao now - _I’m sorry I left you behind too quickly._

Shua lets Junhui rest his head against his chest. “Your heart is too full,” he whispers.

And Junhui relishes in Shua’s empty love.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t wanna end it, but I don’t wanna continue,  
> It’s not easy to say let’s break up.  
> Did I get too comfortable? Or did I change?
> 
> I don’t even hate you now,  
> Are we okay like this?
> 
> We’re lukewarm right now,  
> We’re lukewarm right now.
> 
>  
> 
> _-Lukewarm;Pentagon_

Junhui thinks of the day he and Shua were together. He remembers asking for love, to be loved. 

Shua kissed him so gently. Junhui remembers the jolt that traveled throughout his entire body. Junhui remembers the touching, pulling Shua to sit on his lap, breathing profanities. 

Shua.

And for a few seconds, he remembered when he pictured Minghao was there instead. It was Minghao that Junhui was fucking, Minghao that was panting for more.

And even now Junhui hates himself for it, hates that he let the name slip, hates that he immediately pulled away and Shua started crying that he didn’t care. He wanted Junhui to fuck him, and if he thought of Hao it was okay.

It would never be okay.

The nights that Junhui would come home from where ever and waking Shua up for sex - because sex was their common factor. Sex was what Junhui could do for Shua.

It was too easy to use actions instead of words, Junhui knew that too well. 

Shua was at work again, and Seokmin refuses to give him anymore of. 

It. 

But It wasn't It. It was LSD, LSD made It stop hurting. 

Junhui folds in on himself, feeling tired and sick. Curling into the smallest possible space. Junhui took up too much room. 

Tired. He's so tired - he's too tired. _Touching the small of his back._ He whips around in the opposite direction; no one behind him, Junhui is in Shua's apartment alone. Alone. All alone. He heard something outside the room. He should go see who.

But Junhui can't move, Junhui can't breathe. Jesus. Jesus. Not again. He didn't _take_ anything. 

Using would be good right now. One hit, just one. Ripping at his skin. Breathing down his neck. 

"Seokie?" Seokmin had ignored his call, it was a voice message. "Seokie, I- I can't do it. Please. I can't do it." 

Minghao, Minghao, Minghao. 

Minghao was somewhere lost in this apartment, clinging to the walls like a stain. He would never leave Junhui. He clings like a stain to him, too.

A wave of nausea overcomes Junhui and he throws up his frustrations. The sick puddles in the corner of the room. _A hand resting on the back of his neck, blowing softly. “Junhui,”_

Things will forever drag on. He hates this, he hates them. He wants to die. God, to just die like Minghao. No more. Weightless.

Empty sounds too good. Empty, empty, empty. Why can’t Junhui stop shaking? One fucking hit, one god damn hit.

But he was two days clean when Shua found him. It’s been three days since then - five whole days clean and Shua is so proud of him.

He can’t breathe again.

What time is it?

Junhui is outside, leaned over the raining of the building. His stomach heaves, Junhui feels ready to pass out. But he can’t sleep, he isn’t allowed.

Stumbling. The sidewalk is moving and the rain decorates Junhui with frozen bullets. He can’t do this. 

It’s too cold. Traffic - Cars driving through puddles and drenching Junhui’s shoes. To be lost in that mess.

The driver would never see him, not until it’s too late.

Something pulls at Junhui to run out into the street, looking like a strung out fool. He wants to die, he just wants to die.

He would have Minghao - Junhui curses himself, because he forgot about Shua.

He’s crying.

And Junhui runs all full speed. 

The rain pours harder, blinding him. The headlights of a car growing closer, brighter.

Arms find their way around Junhui. Screaming accompanied. “Junhwi-“

 _Shua_. Where the fuck did Shua come from? He’s soaked. 

And he loves him, he does, but he pushes Shua away. “I can’t.” Junhui cries again. “I can’t.”

Shua weeps. “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t go.”

Junhui was already gone.

He pulls at Junhui. “Junhwi. Please don’t, you’re scaring me.” 

Junhui was already gone.

”It hurts too much, Shua.”

Shua cries more and still pulls at Junhui to come back. “Junhwi.”

Junhui was already gone. 

He leans into Junhui's back, wetting his shirt. "Please. Please, please, please. 

Shua, the prettiest when he cries. But Shua after he cries is never pretty.

Excess tears brimming in his eyes and a shaky voice. He looks like a mess, Junhui doesn’t say so though. He takes a step back, closer to the edge of the sidewalk. Another car zips past and the wind sends a thousand sudden chills down his spine.

Shua with big, tear-filled eyes. He reaches out to Junhui. “Please, please.”

”Go away!” Junhui shouts - no, shouts are full of so much desperation, Junhui was so angry then. He screams at Shua. “Go away! Get the fuck away from me!”

”Junhwi-“

Shua is gone. Shua was never here. Junhui, still on the edge of the sidewalk. The wind and rain cooling down his neck. He felt so hot.

Someone gone again. Leaving Junhui. He feels so alone. More cars pass.

Why can’t he breathe? Even for a second.

Junhui finds himself outside Shua’s apartment again, with his chest collapsing in on itself and his heart heavy. He goes inside.

It feels too dark in there, the familiar shapes of Shua’s furniture still welcoming. Junhui rests a hand on the armchair by the TV and whispers out Shua’s name. “Joshua?”

And from the bedroom, there’s a sudden squeak of the bed and footsteps that chase over to Junhui. Shua stares at him with big eyes. "Where were you?" 

"Out." 

"I came home from work and you were gone." Shua had a late shift, he left around midnight. He would have arrived home around eight that morning. When did Junhui leave? He doesn't know. It was dark. "You left your phone here, Seokmin denied meeting up with you at all. And Jeonghan-" Shua takes a second to swallow hard. "And Jeonghan kept telling me to call the police." 

So Junhui apologizes. "I'm sorry." 

"Did you use?" Junhui shakes his head. "Were you planning to?"

Junhui, on some large level had, so he apologizes again. "I'm sorry." 

Shua is so noticeably upset, so noticeably angry. He never gets angry, but Junhui knows Shua is allowed to. At least now, anyone that deserves to be angry is Shua. "It's so- It's so draining, Junhwi," he gasps. "God. Always coming back to an empty home, or to empty love." A long inhale pauses Shua's rant. "I feel like I can't breathe. I feel like I'm drowning. And I don't want to be mad at you, I try so hard not to be mad at you, because half of this stuff isn't your fault. Drugs, addiction - I'm not mad at you for that... Minghao - I understand that... But- But I can't keep emptying myself into a black hole." 

Junhui is the black hole. 

So he says it. "Am I the black hole?" He waits. "Or is that just our relationship?"

"Is this considered a relationship anymore?" 

Junhui tries to think of why he loves Shua. But everything becomes the equivalent to Minghao: Shua is shorter than him, like Minghao, or his lips are soft against Junhui's, like Minghao's. It's so easy to just fall into the pattern of claiming he loves Shua because _Shua is Shua._

"Then what is it?" Junhui whispers. "What the fuck is this?" 

"I've been trying to figure that out for months." Shua retracts into himself, like he was hiding parts of himself from Junhui. "I love you." 

"Okay." Junhui feels sick. 

"But- But you love Minghao. You're drowning because of him." 

"Shua..." Junhui reaches out. "Shua, I don't want to do this now. I want to rest. Please." 

Shua is full of exhaustion too. For a different reason. "We need to talk about this, Junhwi." 

"I know." He hurts so much. "I know." 

Junhui wants a hit. He needs.

It.

Reluctantly, Shua takes Junhui's still outstretched hand and leads him to their bedroom (or Shua's bedroom, or Junhui's bedroom, or the bedroom.)

He lets Junhui lay down, only for Junhui to motion for Shua to do the same. "It wouldn't be right," is what Shua reasons. 

"I sleep better when you're next to me." 

Shua knows that's a lie, Junhui never sleeps. 

"I'll sleep on the couch," Shua's response is cold. 

The door swings shut and Junhui feels a rock weigh down in his chest. He fights back tears, and nearly manages it, before he hears Shua's voice leak through under the door. He's on the phone. "Jeonghan? He came home... He's sleeping now, we're going to talk tomorrow- No. I don't know what to do." 

Saltwater tears stain Shua's pillowcase and Junhui lets it muffle his sobs. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grey clouds cover the dazzling light of the sun,  
> You’re forever shining upon me as ever,  
> Together with still air, warm breeze,  
> Stay as you are, in the same place.
> 
> Above the grey sky, there must be a brighter light,  
> It’s gonna shine bright after the clouds part.
> 
> You shine like the stars,  
> You light up my heart,  
> Dazzlingly shine upon me at the end of today’s struggles.
> 
>  
> 
> _-Been Through;EXO_

Junhui thinks of open mouth kisses with Shua and wakes up in a cold bed, but there's the smell of coffee not too far away so he chases after it without thought - despite his nauseous stomach. Shua is leaned against the cheap kitchen table, three mugs of coffee on the edge. He recognizes the other two voices that talk over Shua's. It's Jeonghan and Soonyoung. Soonyoung is saying something when Junhui hangs back in the doorway. "You refuse to leave him, but how many times do we all end up talking about this?"

"There's a very clear problem here, Joshua," Jeonghan says gently. "You do nothing but give into him - you threaten that you're close to the edge, that you're going to leave him, but you never follow through. Junhwi says he's tired, and you let him rest rather than talk things out. He cries and says he loves you, and you believe him whole-heartedly. There's no weight to what he says and you know that-" 

"I won't leave him." Junhui thinks of their conversation yesterday and how badly he worried Shua would do just that. "No one gets what it's like for him... He's been clean-"

"Seokmin dealt him stuff."

"Not heroin," Jeonghan adds thoughtfully. He waits. "Don't you remember Chan? How many nights did I wait up with him? Sweating buckets, nightmares - I've been through this shit, too, Joshua."

"You didn't _love him_ ," Shua spits. He retracts. "Love him - like how I love Junhwi. Love him, in that way." There's a long silence before Shua changes topics. "Chan... How is he?"

"He'll be done with his first semester in a week. Then, Seungcheol has a job for him at the grocery store to work over the summer. Chan will meet with the clinic every two weeks, make sure he's doing okay." 

"Is... Vernon still not talking to him?" Soonyoung asks.

"No, he is... On and off. I don't think they'll risk a relationship again." 

Junhui felt sick again. He steps further back out into the hallway and let's his heart thump for a second. Chan used with Junhui a few times before he got clean - sometimes he hated how their friend group was divided up. The ones like Jeonghan or Shua, who knew a bit too much about drugs and about how things are, the ones that got wrapped into something ugly without a single say. And then the ones like Junhui or Chan, who knew a bit too much about drugs and how things are, the ones that got wrapped into something ugly but made that choice themselves. Chan was what Junhwi aimed to be. 

"I don't think Vernon knows how to stay away from Chan. It's either sweet or pathetic. And then that kid... He had no idea how much Vernon is wrapped around his fucking finger." Shua was talking about himself and Junhui, but replaced the names. Shua doesn't curse a lot, so Junhui is surprised to hear him say it. 

"Sounds like someone else we know," Jeonghan adds, tastelessly.  

"I can't leave him." 

"Joshua, you have to," Soonyoung adds. "If Vernon could end things with Chan - which might not even stay that way - then you can leave Junhwi." 

"You don't get it!" Shua gasps. "None of you get it! He's trying for me - he's getting clean, he's- he's mourning, too. No one talks about that, no one cares. Minghao died and Junhwi- Junhwi is hurting. He's hurting and no one seems to care." 

"We're all hurting!" Jeonghan fires back. "Do you think we just didn't care about Minghao? That the only person he mattered to was Junhwi? I know- I know he... Meant something different to him, I know what he was to him, but don't act like it didn't effect any of us. Like Jihoon didn't sit up night after fucking night sobbing because we lost him, like Chan didn't blame himself for whatever fucking reason, like Mingyu- Like Mingyu didn't literally try to- to _follow in suite._ Don't act like him mourning allows him to treat you this way." 

"But he doesn't treat me badly-"

"Yes, he does." 

"Then he knows! And he's trying to fix it!"

Junhui isn't sure if he should disappear back into the bedroom and try and sleep the day away, until Jeonghan and Soonyoung are gone and only Shua still roams the apartment. To whisper for Shua to join him in bed and rest his head on his chest and whisper to him that he loves him. He wants to kiss Shua softly and make promises about getting better, about getting a job and making Shua dinner every night, letting Shua take days off of work because he works too much. Give Shua want he deserves. 

Or should he go into the kitchen and join them, see how well Jeonghan and Soonyoung pick him apart with Junhui sat next to Shua. He would hold Shua's hand then, too, and watch the two others with cold eyes.

He opts for the latter. 

When Junhui finally enters the kitchen, he keeps a compose face. The three men were sitting in a brief silence - maybe shock from Shua's outburst - but Soonyoung had just began to say something before Junhui enters. 

No one said anything. Junhui gets a coffee mug out of the cupboard and pours himself a cup of straight black coffee. He sips quietly and then takes a seat next to Shua. "Morning guys," 

"Hey Junhwi." 

"Good morning," 

And Junhui takes Shua's hand. "What's up with you guys?"

Jeonghan holds his tongue. "Nothing. Telling Joshua about Chan... He's doing well."

Junhui nods, clenching his jaw. "I'm glad. He's a good kid." He takes a sip of his coffee and then takes Shua's hand. "Vernon misses him, I think." 

Shua's thumb grazes the back of Junhui's hand, but Soonyoung answers. "He loves Chan, but... Maybe they just don't match." 

"I think they do, but Chan's been through something..." Shua adds. Junhui's grips gets tighter, desperately clinging to him. 

Jeonghan watches Junhui and Shua's hands, before he speaks softly. "What do you think, Junhwi?"

"Why do you all say my name that way? You never called Minghao by his Korean name." 

They're silent. Shua's hand feels heavy in Junhui's hand. "Minghao always snapped at us when we used Myungho." 

"So should I start snapping? Or will that just give you another reason to whisper about me in my fucking kitchen to my boyfriend?" 

Shua takes a sharp breath and stands quickly, his hand still joined with Junhui's. "Junhwi, living room." 

"'Junhwi,'" he muses. 

"Now." 

And by the time they reach the living room, Junhui can only stare at Shua. Shua pulls his hand back and Junhui starts to apologize. "Shua, I'm-"

"I'm sorry about Jeonghan and Soonyoung, I'm sorry for what we were all saying... You- You shouldn't of had to hear that." 

"Are you only upset that I heard?"

"I don't know." 

Junhui reaches for Shua's hand. He pulls back for a second, but then allows Junhui to join their fingers again. "They were saying the truth." 

"They don't know the fucking truth," Shua groans suddenly. "None of us do." 

"You do," Junhui says. "But you're never going to admit anything. 'Cause I know you'd rather die than admit this is all fucked - that you know exactly what this is, but-" 

"I'm in love with a drug addict. I'm in love with an addict that claims to love me, too," Shua says. "And maybe he does. Maybe this addict boyfriend I have really does love me, but he also loves a dead guy. Someone he never really had and someone he'll definitely never have now. And this addict boyfriend is going to keep shoving me to the side and putting me second to the dead one, even though I'm here-" 

"Can you not call him 'the dead one'?" 

"Well, when I say his name you end up doing me and using me like an empty shell. As if you close your eyes and suddenly I'm not Joshua. I'm him." _I'm Minghao._

"You think I'm using you as a replacement?" 

"I know you are. And you know I'm going to let you, because I love you." His voice cracks. "I love your smile, I love your singing, I love our conversations, I love your stories, I love you so much and it aches."

It stings a little too deeply, and Junhui rationalizes it up to the conversation with Jeonghan and Soonyoung. That their words clicked something in Shua and now he's spewing nonsense. But Junhui knows this was a long time coming. "I love you." 

"No, you don't."

"I really wouldn't be here if I didn't, you know that," Junhui tries. They've been speaking Mandarin, hiding their conversation from the two in the kitchen. "And I'm sorry that Minghao- that Minghao still has so much of a hold over me. But I'm trying-"

"You're not, Junhui..." Junhui felt a chill rush down his spine, Shua's lips curled around his name so effortlessly. "You're not, and I don't know how to make you. I can't threaten something that you know I'll never manage to do." 

Shua is talking about leaving Junhui. 

"Then what are you going to do?"

Shua looks back to the kitchen, where Jeonghan and Soonyoung still carelessly whisper. He turns to Junhui. "I don't know."

"I don't know what I would do if you left. If I lost you..."

"And I think that's why I won't do it. I can't keep lying to myself, I can't keep saying it will get better - especially when I know it never will. Show me it will, show me something will change. Do something."

Going through his mind then is just from what felt like seconds ago - Junhui's plan to make things better for Shua, to get a job, to take care of him, to love Shua and tell him the things he wants to hear. It's not faking the love. It would never be fake - he loves Shua _. He loves Shua._

There are so many things he wants to say to Shua, but Junhui feels sick. "You're pretty."

Shua, with his champagne voice and tired eyes, his mouth pulled back into a tired smile. "But Minghao is prettier." 


End file.
